


Fate

by harry_styleswho



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, University Student Harry Styles, Unrequited Love, but not with harry and penelope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harry_styleswho/pseuds/harry_styleswho
Summary: But then his first mark appeared, and suddenly his world fell into orbit.He was sitting on his bed, doodling away at his notepad, planning the next design he’d etch on his skin (because even after all this time, he hadn’t lost hope), when a tingling sensation traveled up his arm. With a gasp, Harry looked down to his arm to see a sloppy written sentence.maths homework; workbook pg. 26Or: a story about soulmates that literally no one needs at all, but I just couldn’t help myself.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Fate

Harry’s first mark appeared when he was fifteen years old.

He had been waiting for it to appear for years, and when it never did, he feared he was going to be forever alone. Most people’s marks showed up around their tenth year of life, but Harry’s tenth birthday came and went without a single scratch.

For the next two years, he wrote and doodled all over just about every inch of his skin he could reach. Sometimes it was mere chicken scratch, but other times, he really took his time, perfectly sculpting the curves and loops of the words he was writing. He drew the most intricate landscapes and designs, things he usually saved for the sketchpad he had stowed away beneath his bed.

He must’ve doodled on his skin about a million times, and in all those times, nothing appeared back. He always kept the ink on his skin until it wore away at its own accord. Two years passed, and Harry convinced himself he would be forever alone. There were always those unfortunate souls that were born without a soul mate, without someone that were destined to be with, the world’s population never being able to properly even out, but it was tremendously rare, and Harry never thought it would be him. Never thought he’d be one of those unfortunate souls.

But as those two years passed, he had convinced himself he was.

His mother had told him he was simply a late bloomer, that his grandfather hadn’t gotten his first mark until he was well into his teens. But Harry was miserable, nonetheless. He knew his mother was trying to comfort him, but maybe he wasn’t meant to have a soulmate. Maybe he was going to be forever alone.

But then his first mark appeared, and suddenly his world fell into orbit.

He was sitting on his bed, doodling away at his notepad, planning the next design he’d etch on his skin (because even after all this time, he hadn’t lost hope), when a tingling sensation traveled up his arm. With a gasp, Harry looked down to his arm to see a sloppy written sentence.

_maths homework; workbook pg. 26_

Something warm spread through Harry at the sight, and he never ever thought he’d feel this way about _maths._ But he couldn’t help the goofy smile that curved his lips. His soulmate was forgetful, that much was clear. They were writing their homework down, because they couldn’t remember it on their own.

The thought made Harry feel tingly, and in return, he drew another intricate design on his forearm, ending the artwork with a simple hello.

It took a few minutes for a response to sound, and Harry wondered if his soulmate was just in awe as he was. But when the tingly sensation started again, Harry was convinced he would never stop smiling.

_well nice to finally meet you (sort of)_

* * *

Penelope James didn’t understand this whole soulmate thing. She wasn’t quite sure how someone could be bounded to another for life. She didn’t understand the strange custom.

Her parents weren’t even soulmates, for Christ’s sake. Her mum had lost her soulmate when she was seventeen. They hadn’t even met in person, just the occasional mark surfacing on their arms every other day. And it was a week before Christmas on her mother’s seventeenth year when she felt something cold pass through her, as if her heart was being stabbed with ice. It was a freak car accident, she was told. The driver slipped on some ice, and the vehicle had lost control.

There wasn’t another mark on her mother’s skin again. The last mark her soulmate had left was burned into her skin on her rib cage along with her soulmate’s initials, forever mocking her loss.

_Can’t wait to meet you._

_A.S._

Her dad was one of those rare people who was born without a soulmate. On his tenth birthday, not a single mark appeared on his skin. His parents assumed he was a late bloomer, because sometimes, that was the case. But years passed, and a mark never did appear. His skin was always bare. When he turned twenty, he realized he really had no soulmate.

Years later, her parents met at university, completely soulmate-less. After a few casual dates, they learned they were pregnant, with Penelope. They promptly got married, had her, and they had been together ever since. But the thing was, they had never been in love. They were a partnership, raising a child together, but they weren’t a couple. And that was all Penelope knew.

When she turned ten and no mark appeared, she was almost relieved. Perhaps she had inherited her father’s fate. Perhaps there really wasn’t someone she’d be forever linked to. Perhaps—

It happened when she was fifteen. She had taken to writing memos down on her arms to remind herself of things she had to get done. Her memory was quite abysmal, so it was really the only way to remember things.

She had been doing it for years, and no mark had ever appeared back, so she just always assumed there was nobody on the receiving end. That is, until the mark appeared.

She was trying to start her homework assignments from the long day at school. There was a test that needed studying for, but there was also some maths homework that needed completing, so she promptly wrote that down, hoping it would help her remember in the next hour or so.

A few moments later, a tingling sensation started in her arm, and she felt her heart quicken and a gasp escape her when she looked down to see an intricate design curving itself into the skin of her forearm. As if an invisible being was drawing on her. The loops were beautiful, and the curves were lovely. Penelope found herself staring at the design, picturing a faceless being drawing it into their arm in hopes that Penelope would see it.

She stared at the mark for a few minutes, taking in its entirety before it hit her. This was her soulmate. Penelope had a soulmate.

The thought made her stomach crawl.

Then she realized her soulmate was probably waiting for a response, and she didn’t want to leave them hanging. It was their first mark too, after all.

So, with a deep breath, she quickly jotted down the first thing that came to her head.

_well nice to finally meet you (sort of)_

* * *

Harry’s parents were soulmates.

But the funny thing about the custom was simply because you were soulmates didn’t mean you’d end up together. Soulmates were simply your other half, but that didn’t mean your other half was meant to be taken in a romantic sense.

Harry learnt that at young age.

He was five years old when his parents told him they would no longer be husband and wife. They were soulmates, yes. But they simply didn’t feel for each other in a romantic sense. Harry remembered feeling devastated.

After that, his parents could no longer leaves marks on one another. The ‘I do’ that was customarily written on their skin in a permanent fashion at their wedding slowly faded until it was nothing but a whispered memory. Harry cried when he noticed his mother’s mark had vanished.

Years later, his mum found a new man named Robin. He had lost his soulmate to cancer years before. Harry’s mum looked at Robin with so much love and adoration that Harry understood. Perhaps his father was her soulmate, but Robin was her love. Harry never realized the difference until then.

Harry’s father was at their wedding, smiling widely and clapping the loudest of them all when they inscribed their _I do’s_ into one another’s skin. Harry stood by Robin’s side, choking on his tears. Tears of happiness.

Since then, Harry welcomed Robin into the family with open arms. After all, if he made his mother happy, that was all that counted.

Though it always did make Harry wonder if his soulmate was going to be undying love.

Exactly three months after you receive your first marks, your soulmate’s initials appear on your skin. Harry woke up one morning and looked down his wrist, hoping with a thumping heart that his soulmate had left him a little message while he had been sleeping, but what he saw caused his heart to almost stop altogether.

_P.J._

Harry’s eyes widened at the sight. _Had it been three months already?_

P.J. That was his soulmate’s initials. He wondered if they were a boy or girl. He didn’t think he cared either way. Harry knew they were going to be beautiful no matter what.

Harry smiled, shoving his face where the initials were etched into her skin. There was this esteemed giddiness in him, and Harry was sure it was going to burst out of him.

He had a soulmate.

* * *

Penelope was taking a shower when she realized the set of initials etched across her wrist.

_H.S._

She supposed most girls would smile and fawn over the fact that they weren’t destined to be forever alone. This was real; she had a soulmate. Whoever she or he may be.

But the thought did nothing but cause her stomach to churn violently. She hadn’t inherited her father’s tragic fate, but there was still a chance that she’d inherit her mother’s. What if she let herself care then she lost them?

She looked down at the mark again, scowling until the water turned cold and it was time to get out of the shower.

_H.S._

_Whoever you are. Please be safe._

Two hours later, Penelope was sitting with her best friend, Lucy O’Dell, in her house. They had been working on their homework for a few hours. Or rather, Penelope was working on her homework while Lucy talked nonsense in her ear.

“Do you think your soulmate is a boy?”

Penelope looked up from her homework, eyes wide. “Um,” she said slowly, “I think the whole purpose of having a soulmate is _not_ knowing.”

“No.” Lucy rolled her eyes, as if they’d had this conversation thousands of times before, “the whole point of having a soulmate is _knowing_ you’re gonna be with one person for the rest of your life.”

Penelope nodded once, almost feeling ill at the thought. That was easy for Lucy to think­–her parents were soulmates, after all. She grew up on the premise that a soulmate was your one true love. Penelope, however, knew better.

“I don’t know, Lucy,” Penelope shrugged, looking back down to her homework. “I don’t think it matters whether your soulmate is a boy or girl. They’re still your soulmate.”

And then they didn’t talk on the matter of soulmates for the rest of the night.

* * *

Lucy met her soulmate two years later. They were seventeen years old now, and Lucy’s obsession with soulmates had only strengthened.

When she met a girl named Lane Adams, a girl whose initials perfectly matched the ones etched onto Lucy’s skin, Lucy was happier than ever. Penelope almost cried when Lucy told her.

“She’s perfect,” Lucy told her, smiling sweetly. Her eyes had a wistful quality to them, and Penelope couldn’t look away. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. You’ll love her.”

Penelope nodded, feigning happiness for her best friend.

She felt infinitely stupid for wishing the _H.S_. on her wrist read _L.O._ for the last two years.

* * *

When Penelope went off to university, her mother cried. She held Penelope in her arms, clinging to her as she cried.

Penelope didn’t want to leave her parents. They were having marital troubles. This much she knew no matter how hard they tried to hide it from her. Their angered whispers in the middle of the night never went unnoticed by her. Her sleepless hours became quite familiarized with them.

They were nearing their end, she knew that.

They were holding onto their marriage because of her. She knew that.

She knew that once she left it would end. They would end. She knew it all, and still she left.

So, with one more hug from each of her parents, she boarded her train, and then she cried silently in her seat before falling asleep.

She woke up an hour and a half later to a tingling sensation in her arm, knowing exactly what it was. As if her soulmate could feel how she was feeling, there was a beautifully drawn design with the words _be happy_ etched at the end.

Penelope went to the bathroom to scrub it off, cursing when it didn’t fade a bit.

She barely noticed the tears flowing down her cheeks.

* * *

The funny thing about soulmates, you could almost feel what they felt. Harry didn’t really understand how that could work when he was a kid. It seemed made up. Fake. He was the only person who could feel what he felt. No one else could.

And he never understood it until it happened. Until he felt it.

He was moving into his new dorm. His parents had just left, and he was a little sad, but mostly excited. He’d been dreaming about university his entire life, and now he was here.

There were so many boxes to be unpacked, and Harry was still waiting for his roommate to show up. He hoped they were nice. And he was contemplating a game plan for if they turned out to be a total prick when he felt it.

It was almost like a shiver, but it was too small to be considered a shiver. Maybe a tremor. And all the sudden, he felt this wave of melancholia, but it was as if he wasn’t experiencing it himself. Because he wasn’t. It was like a secondhand emotion, and right away, he knew his soulmate was upset.

Without much thought, Harry grabbed a pen from his desk. His art utensils were the very first thing he unloaded.

He wasn’t so sure what he was doing. Didn’t really have a plan in mind, but it was as if his hands had a mind if their own, and he was drawing an intricate design without much of a say. He ended it with a simple _be happy._

He stared at it for a moment or two, smiling, hoping his soulmate liked it.

* * *

It didn’t happen all the time, but when it did, it was big emotions that caused Harry to feel what his soulmate was feeling.

It wasn’t just when they were sad; it was when they were in despair.

It wasn’t just when they were happy; it was when they were overjoyed. 

Sometimes, if Harry was doing something, he barely felt his soulmate’s emotions, but if he really thought about, it consumed him, almost feeling like _his_ emotion.

More times than not, it was the feeling of despair that seemed to consume him. It was an emotion that his soulmate seemed to feel more than the others.

Harry hated it.

But he didn’t hate it for himself; he hated it for _them._ His pour soulmate. He wished they didn’t feel such despair, such heartache. Every time he felt that small tremor, he wished the melancholia that followed was something he solely felt.

He wished he could take their pain away, but he couldn’t. And he knew he couldn’t. So, he took to art, drawing the most intricate and beautiful designs on his skin in hopes that- that would alleviate some of their pain.

It seemed to help him.

* * *

Three months into university, Penelope’s mother called her. She knew it wasn’t good news.

“Hey, love,” her mother said sweetly, a little too sweetly.

Penelope hung her head, willing the tightening sensation in her throat away. “Hi, Mum,” she whispered quietly. She contemplated hanging up. If her mom never delivered the news, could she pretend she didn’t know?

“Pen, I have something to tell you.”

Penelope nodded, knowing full well that her mother couldn’t see her. She waited for the words that were surely coming next. Silently. As she waited, her eyes drifted to the _H.S._ etched on her wrist, and strangely, she felt a swoop of relief flood through her. Then she quickly pushed it down because it didn’t matter. Soulmates didn’t matter. You’re only ever alone in the end.

“Honey, your dad and I are separated.”

Penelope nodded again, closing her eyes. A single tear fell. “Okay.”

Her mother sighed. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. We tried everything we could. We did, but we just­–.”

“­–weren’t soulmates,” Penelope finished for her. She could hear the tears in her voice as clear as day.

“Yeah,” her mom said sadly, “we weren’t soulmates.”

“It’s okay, Mum. I just want you to be happy.”

There was silence, and it only made Penelope’s throat feel tighter. “I’ll get there eventually, honey. I promise.”

 _I will too,_ she thought solemnly.

* * *

University was slowly killing Penelope’s memory.

With each assignment given, she felt as if her brain chipped away another piece of her memory. Which, obviously, it hadn’t, but perhaps university made _everyone_ feel that way. Penelope was certain it did.

So, she took to writing her assignments and appointments on her arm. She probably should invest in an agenda, she knew this much. But she had a pretty decent system down, and she hadn’t missed an assignment yet. So, she kept scribbling everything down on her arm before transferring it to her calendar once she got back to her dorm room.

And to be fair, Penelope completely forgot her soulmate would be able to see this. It hadn’t occurred to her that everything she wrote down on her arm appeared on theirs. Well, it had _occurred_ to her. She knew the basics behind soulmates, but when the person wasn’t right in front of her, it was easy to forget they existed. Especially when she was actively pushing all thoughts of soulmates from her mind.

Which, she had. She’d forgotten all about her soulmate until it happened.

Penelope was walking to her advisor’s building, scribbling memos down on her arm when she bumped into someone. The force of the collision wasn’t enough to knock her down, but she did stumble, losing her balance for a moment of two. Two hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her, and when she looked up, her eyes were met with two green ones, and she felt her heart stutter.

“Hi.”

* * *

Harry was confused.

Meaningless words would appear on his skin every single day, and logically, he knew it was his soulmate. But he just didn’t understand what they were trying to say.

Then it occurred to him. They were memos. Their assignments and appointments. Their schedule. They must have taken to writing it down on their arm to remember, and for some reason, Harry found that immensely endearing.

A smile quirked his lips at the thought.

There was a small mark about an advisor’s meeting, the location and time right below it. Harry recognized the building name almost instantly because he had an eight-a.m. class in that building every Monday. His eyes widened at the realization. His soulmate attended the same university. They were so close to one another.

With a single thought, Harry quickly looked at the time before grabbing his jacket and running out the door. It took him exactly fifteen minutes to get the building, and perched himself against the entrance, with thirty seconds to spare.

He watched as people walked passed him. Some ran into the building, other walked briskly passed it. No one made eye contact with him.

They always say that once you see your soulmate, you’ll know they were your soulmate almost instantly. Harry wasn’t quite sure how that happened, but if that were true, then no one that had passed him was his soulmate. There was no way.

Twenty minutes passed, and he still hadn’t found them. Harry sighed, looking down to his watch once more before pushing off the wall. He gathered his stuff and began walking away.

He managed exactly 2.5 steps before someone collided with him, and it felt like his skin was on fire in the best way possible. Instinctually, his arms reached out to steady the person who had collided with him, and all his senses began to sing. When he locked eyes with this person, he knew it was his soulmate, and she was beautiful.

“Hi.”

* * *

Penelope knew who this was. _H.S._

_H.S._

This was her soulmate, and his eyes were the most green and beautiful things she’d ever seen. His eyelashes were long and framed his eyes perfectly. He was beautiful. The most beautiful person she’d ever seen. She knew she was staring, but it wasn’t until he rose his eyebrows that he realized he’d spoke, and she still hadn’t responded. She was still staring.

“Um,” her voice squeaked, and the boy smiled. “Wait, what?”

Then he laughed, and Penelope felt like she was going to pass out.

“I said, hi,” he told her, voice deep and calm. Everything Penelope wasn’t. “But why don’t we start over?”

Penelope nodded.

“I’m Harry,” he stuck his hand out, smiling softly. “Harry Styles.”

_H.S._

“Penelope,” she took his hand, shaking gently. “Penelope James.”

When she looked down, she saw _P.J._ etched onto the wrist of the hand she had clasped, and her head began to spin.

Harry reluctantly let go of her hand, shuffling his feet before looking up. “So, I s’pose we’re soulmates?”

Penelope did the only thing she could think of: she turned around and ran.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on tumblr @harry-styleswho. tpwk xx


End file.
